Solstice - Of The Heart

by John Blenkush

  I looked at Aaron.

  How was I to tell? Was I being hurt by what he told me? Would I be?

  Truthfully, I really didn’t know, but what I did know was Aaron had too good a heart to intentionally put me in danger.

  Or so I thought at the moment.

  “No. We were just out for a hike. Why? What’s wrong?”

  “You’re sure? Cause otherwise I can have someone pick you up and take you home. I’d do it, but I’m overdue in Redding.”

  “No. He’s fine. I’ll go home with him.”

  The officer waved for Aaron to come on over.

  “Where’s your vehicle?”

  Aaron pointed to the Dodge truck.

  “That’s mine.”

  “Let me see the registration and your driver’s license.”

  Aaron produced both.

  “Stay here,” the officer said. “I’ll be right back.”

  He walked over to his patrol car, sat down, and typed Aaron’s information into the patrol car laptop.

  “Sorry about this,” I said. “My mom can be a pain some times.”

  “It’s good she worries about you.”

  I looked at my watch.

  “Yes, but it’s only seven. I’m not late.”

  “And dark,” Aaron said. “Plus you’re out with someone she doesn’t know. I can understand her concern. I’ll apologize when we get back.”

  “For what?”

  “For keeping you out so late.”

  “It’s seven!”

  “You don’t want me to apologize?”

  “No! I don’t.”

  The officer walked back and handed Aaron his license and Bernard’s vehicle registration. He was more cordial this time around, at least to Aaron.

  “You’re Bernard’s kin?”

  Aaron nodded.

  The officer offered his hand.

  “Glad to meet you. I’ve known Bernard a long time, Belmont and Beaumont since last year. You up from below?”

  Aaron looked at me with concern on his face.

  “Yes,” he said. “Came up last summer.”

  I could see the officer sensing Aaron’s unease. He quickly changed the subject.

  “Young lady,” he said, as he turned to me, “it’s a good thing you picked this gentleman to go hiking out here alone in the woods. I know a few others who would have tried to take advantage of the situation. You get on home, now.”

  I smiled through my frown and nodded.

  “Okay. I will.”

  As we drove home north on I-5, Aaron kept quiet. I felt the silence growing, forcing a wedge between us.

  “You okay?” I said.

  “Yep. Just deep thinking.”

  I smiled.

  “Do that a lot?”

  “Every time I’m with a pretty girl.”

  “So...that’s often, huh?”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

  “Once in a black moon.”

  “You mean blue moon.”

  “No. Blue moons happen every two to three years. A black moon every couple of decades.”

  It didn’t take much calculation on my part to figure since Aaron had just turned sixteen he was saying he had never been with what he considered a ‘pretty’ girl before. Or maybe it meant he had never dated a girl at all, pretty or not. It also meant I was the reason he was doing some serious thinking. I didn’t want to scare him away, so I kept the conversation on the light side.

  “So what’s a black moon?”

  “Means there is no moon in the month.”

  “That really happens?”

  “Yes.”

  Aaron turned to me and flashed his mega-watt smile.

  “In a black moon.”

  Aaron turned the truck onto the side road that led up to our house.

  Up ahead I saw Dierdra’s car parked in the driveway. I also saw another car, a white car with a blue stripe, with a light bar and brush bar attached in the front. Even from our distance I could see the placard on the door, indicating the vehicle belonged to the sheriff’s department.

  Aaron pulled the truck over to the side of the road.

  “What’s the matter?”

  He motioned with his head.

  “The police are at your house.”

  “I gathered.”

  Aaron looked at me, a frown creasing his face.

  “Why do you think they’re there?”

  “I don’t know, Aaron. But I’m afraid it might have something to do with my mom. She’s been depressed. She’s seeing a psychologist in Redding.”

  “You should go.”

  “You’re not coming with me?”

  Aaron looked to the cars in the driveway.

  “No. Best I didn’t. Think I’ve had my fill of cops with Cen Morten.”

  I assumed Aaron was talking about the highway patrol officer.

  “You know his name?”

  “Saw it on his name badge.”

  “His first name too?”

  “Well...maybe not Cen, but, yes, Morten.”

  This piqued my curiosity.

  “Then how do you know his first name?”

  Aaron shrugged.

  “Think I’ve met him somewhere before.”

  Sounded possible, but it seemed odd given the exchange between Cen Morten and Aaron. I couldn’t help but suspect they knew about each other, but had never met until tonight.

  I nodded toward the house.

  “You sure you can’t come in?”

  Aaron shook his head.

  “You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?” I said in half-jest. “Going back down below?”

  Aaron looked away.

  “Bernard’s waiting for me.”

  I didn’t know what lay in wait for me in the house. I thought the least Aaron could do is walk me to the door.

  I so wanted to lay it on heavy, to tell Aaron what I was thinking; that my mom could be dead. Overdosed on whiskey and drugs or whatever prescription meds she was taking these days. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Not only would it not be fair, but I didn’t want our first and maybe last date to end in grief.

  I opened the door and stepped out.

  I needed Aaron to be by my side for support, but I didn’t want him to feel boxed in. I found a way to give the invite one last try, while keeping our fledging friendship alive.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to come in? I make a mean fried bologna sandwich.”

  Aaron wrinkled up his nose.

  “That sounds disgusting.”

  His reply gave me reason to laugh, which helped calm my nerves.

  “It does, doesn’t it? But you haven’t lived until you’ve eaten a hot curled up piece of bologna fried in butter. It’s a Minnesota delicacy right up there with oatmeal pancakes and P&Js.”

  I figured if I stalled long enough and kept the conversation going, Aaron might feel sympathy for me, change his mind, and, at the very least, walk me to the door.

  “Okay,” I said as I closed the truck door. “You’re loss.”

  I meant that in more ways than one.

  As I trudged up the incline toward the house, I glanced back.

  Aaron hadn’t started the truck. I could see him inside the cab, leaning over to the passenger door, fiddling with something.

  Perhaps in my haste to walk away before I fell apart I hadn’t gotten the door completely shut.

  As I neared the driveway I smelled Aaron’s scent, the unmistakable odor of scorched air and light sweat. Aaron, just like that, stood beside me, the bouquet of weeds in his hand.

  Even in the dim street lighting I could see the Crag Bellflower bouquet held renewed color. Gone was the dry, brown look of crushed weeds. In their place lay a healthy looking head of flowers, not perfect by floral standards but, nevertheless, the white and blues and greens showed through.

  Aaron held the bouquet up to my face.

  “These are for you.”

  I raised my hand and then hesitated in taking the
bouquet from him.

  “Please take them,” he said. “They’re yours.”

  I took them, caressing the bouquet lightly, expecting a surge of energy, a tickling or something, to run up my arm.

  “How’d you get them to bloom?”

  Aaron shrugged.

  “A little water goes a long way.”

  I held the stems tight in my hand. I did not feel moisture. I didn’t expect Aaron to think I would fall for his white lie. I guessed it was his way of asking me not to cloud the moment with inquest.

  Who could resist the charm of a demi-god?

  I leaned up and in. I gave him a kiss on his cheek.

  “Thank-you,” I said, as I returned and rested on my heels.

  I hoped for so much more than half-wilted flowers. I hoped he would grab me, pull me close, kiss me, say he was sorry, take my hand in his, and walk with me into the house. Anything to let me know he cared. Anything to let me know he would stand by me in my time of need. Or were the flowers his way of saying goodbye?

  As he turned away, I stood their stunned, tears in my eyes, my feet frozen in place, my voice silenced.

  The porch light came on.

  I looked.

  When I turned back I saw Aaron driving away.

  I clutched the wilted bouquet of flowers, groping to understand as an overwhelming sense of dread washed over me.

  Dread that my mother might be dead.

  Dread I might never see Aaron again.

  Dread I might be alone in the world.

  I felt my heart stand still, as if in waiting to reverse direction.

  And then I knew: this is what love means…SACRIFICE.

  (SOLSTICE-SACRIFICE coming soon to Amazon, B&N, and Smashwords)

  Table of Contents

  Solstice - Of The Heart

  Midpoint